Free Web NovelChapter 909: Breakfast with a mother dressed as a maid.
The snow continued to fall slowly on Asgard that gray morning, partially covering the industrial rooftops, the railway lines, and the metal towers that grew ever higher above the city’s administrative districts. Even early, the distant sound of locomotives already pierced the cold winter air, accompanied by the constant noise of factories working tirelessly. Asgard never seemed to truly sleep now. There were always workers toiling, trains crossing the tracks, or caravans arriving through the city’s outer gates. The monstrous expansion continued almost like a living entity growing unchecked.
Inside the main castle, however, the atmosphere was much quieter.
The enormous dining hall was partially warmed by the fireplaces lit near the dark stone walls. The soft morning light streamed through the tall windows while the smell of fresh coffee and hot food filled the air. For the first time in a long time, there was a rare sense of normalcy in that place.
Strax remained seated at the table, still wearing simple clothes after finally waking from his long period of rest. Her white hair was still partially disheveled from excessive sleep, and although she looked much better physically than days ago, there was still a noticeable weight in her expression. Nine days of sleep had helped her body, but clearly hadn’t resolved everything that had been building up in her head for the past few months.
In front of her, Scathach calmly arranged some cups while finishing serving the breakfast she had prepared.
The contrast still seemed strange.
For much of Strax’s life, the image of his mother had been linked to destruction, overwhelming authority, and absolute fear. Scathach was the kind of creature whose mere presence usually sent entire kingdoms into a panic. Now she walked calmly through the hall, once again wearing that absurdly provocative maid uniform, arranging breakfast plates with complete ease.
And the strangest thing was that she seemed genuinely comfortable with it.
Strax observed the table for a few seconds before finally picking up his coffee cup.
It smelled good.
Very good, actually. He took a slow sip as he watched Scathach finish arranging some dishes near the table.
Then he asked calmly,
"Are you alright?"
She looked up immediately upon hearing that. For a few seconds, she seemed slightly surprised by the question, as if she wasn’t quite used to someone genuinely caring about her in that way.
Then she gave a small, discreet smile.
"I am."
Her answer came simply, but sincerely.
She slowly pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of the table before continuing,
"Monica helped a lot."
Strax watched her silently as Scathach delicately held her own coffee cup.
"Helped how?"
She seemed to think for a few seconds before answering.
"To integrate me."
The word came out calmly, almost strangely coming from her.
Scathach partially looked away towards the window as she continued speaking,
"Honestly... I expected something much worse."
Strax didn’t respond immediately.
Because they both knew exactly what she was talking about.
The incident still lingered in the memory of everyone within that castle. The moment when Scathach practically lost control and nearly killed several of them during the outburst caused by her own mental and emotional instability.
Even now, some of the guilt clearly remained within her.
She continued speaking in a much lower tone:
"Even though it seems strange... or perhaps even humiliating to some people... working here like this..." She glanced quickly at her own uniform before giving a small, tired smile. "...it’s a dignified job."
Strax remained silent, observing her.
Scathach then held the cup with both hands before continuing:
"And honestly... after all that..." Her eyes lowered for a few seconds. "...I’m grateful for the redemption."
Silence returned to the hall soon after.
Not an uncomfortable silence.
Just heavy.
Ancient.
Like two people observing the remnants of problems that haven’t completely disappeared yet.
Strax partially rested his cup on the table before finally replying:
"I hope you don’t think I’m punishing you."
Scathach immediately looked up.
And before he could continue, she calmly interrupted:
"I never thought that."
The answer came firmly.
Instantaneously.
Without hesitation.
She kept her eyes fixed on him as she continued:
"Not for a second."
Strax remained quiet as she breathed slowly before proceeding:
"Again... I just want to say thank you."
There was too much sincerity in her voice to seem like any attempt to please.
It felt real.
Perhaps because it was.
Scathach probably expected to be hated, isolated, or even expelled after what happened. Instead, Monica found a place for herself within the daily workings of the castle.
Practical.
Controlled.
And surprisingly human.
That’s most likely what prevented Scathach from sinking even further into her own guilt.
Strax finally let out a small, tired smile before picking up his coffee cup again.
"Good."
She watched him for a few silent seconds before finally relaxing her shoulders slightly.
The atmosphere became lighter.
At least partially.
Then Strax looked at the table again.
There was freshly baked bread.
Still-cooked meat.
Fruit.
Tea.
Coffee.
Everything absurdly organized.
He picked up a piece of bread slowly before commenting,
"You really made a good breakfast."
Scathach smiled almost discreetly at that.
A small smile.
But genuine.
"Monica taught me."
That made Strax raise an eyebrow immediately.
"She taught you to cook?"
Scathach nodded naturally.
"She said I needed to learn common tasks."
"That sounds exactly like something Monica would say."
"She also created schedules."
"Of course she did."
Scathach took a small sip of coffee before continuing,
"At first I thought it was strange." freewebnσvel.cѳm
"And now?"
She glanced briefly at her own hands before replying,
"Now I think... it’s fine."
Strax continued watching her for a few seconds.
It was still strange to process.
Scathach seemed much less unstable now.
There was still something dangerous about her. It would never completely disappear. The overwhelming presence was still there, hidden beneath the surface. But at the same time, there was a different kind of calm now.
Perhaps routine really did help.
Perhaps Monica had understood this from the beginning.
The problem was that Monica probably did that to herself too.
She turned everything into work.
Organization.
Routine.
Control.
As if stopping meant losing her balance.
Strax then took another sip of his coffee before asking:
"Speaking of which... where is Monica?"
Scathach immediately looked away.
That alone answered half the question.
Strax narrowed his eyes slightly.
"She went back to work, didn’t she?"
Scathach immediately raised both hands in a gesture of surrender before he even finished the sentence.
"She rested for eight days."
Strax continued to stare at her.
Scathach sighed slightly before adding:
"She came back today."
The silence that followed was utterly revealing.
Strax slowly set his cup down on the table, running a hand over his face.
"She was supposed to be out of commission for two weeks."
Scathach gave a small, tired smile.
"I figured you’d react like this."
"Because I’m right."
"Probably."
He let out a long sigh, glancing partly at the snow beyond the windows.
Of course, Monica came back early.
Eight days already probably felt like psychological torture for her.
Strax could perfectly imagine how it happened. First, she started by just reviewing small reports. Then she decided to organize some documents. Then she probably showed up at some administrative district "just to check something."
And before they knew it, she was back managing half the city.
Sick.
Completely sick.
Scathach watched him silently before calmly commenting:
"Honestly... maybe it’s better this way."
Strax slowly glanced at her. "Better?"
She nodded.
"Leaving Monica unemployed for too long..." Scathach let out a small, low, nasal laugh. "...will make her sick."
This made Strax fall silent for a few seconds.
Because unfortunately, it made sense.
Monica clearly didn’t know how to exist anymore without working on something. The growth of Asgard had practically become a direct extension of her own mind. Solving problems, organizing systems, and controlling the functioning of the entire city was probably what kept her emotionally stable.
The problem was that it was also slowly destroying her.
Strax picked up another piece of bread as he spoke:
"She needs to learn to rest."
Scathach partially rested her face on one hand before replying:
"Maybe."
"Maybe not. Definitely."
She observed him for a few seconds before asking:
"And you?"
This made Strax briefly stop moving.
"What about me?"
Scathach tilted her head slightly.
"You slept for nine days."
He let out a small, tired laugh.
"Fair point."
"You clearly don’t know how to rest either."
That elicited a short silence from him.
Because again she was right.
Maybe everyone in that city was slowly becoming the same.
Asgard was growing too fast.
Everything constantly depended on everyone else.
There was always another problem arising.
Another territory.
Another threat.
Another crisis.
Another attack.
Another project.
Another report.
Another war.
It seemed impossible to simply stop.
Strax watched the hot steam slowly rising from the coffee cup before finally answering:
"I intended to rest more."
Scathach raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Intended to?"
He let out another tired sigh.
"Something tells me this won’t last much longer."
She seemed to immediately realize there was something beyond physical exhaustion behind that answer.
Her gaze shifted slightly.
More attentive.
"Does it have to do with Ouroboros?"
The question came too calmly.
Too directly.
Strax remained silent for a few seconds before answering:
"Perhaps."
Scathach observed him carefully.
She had probably already noticed that something was wrong long before the others. Ancient creatures like herself were too sensitive to ignore strange changes in monstrous presences.
And Ouroboros had definitely changed.
Even if subtly.
Strax rested his arms partially on the table as he spoke in a much lower tone:
"Something happened in the Celestial Capital."
Scathach didn’t interrupt.
She didn’t press.
She just listened.
"For a few moments..." he continued slowly. "...she didn’t seem like herself anymore."
Silence returned to the hall.
Heavy again.
Scathach closed his eyes for a second before asking:
"Did she lose control?"
"Not exactly."
"Then?"
Strax took a moment to answer.
Because he still couldn’t explain it exactly.
"It seemed..." He breathed slowly. "...as if something else was looking through her."
Scathach’s expression hardened subtly.
Very subtly.
But Strax noticed.
She immediately understood the gravity of it.
Creatures of that level were not easily influenced.
If something had actually managed to temporarily seize Ouroboros...
Then that was a gigantic problem.
Scathach slowly set his cup down on the table before asking:
"Does she know?"
"I think so."
"And she’s hiding it."
"Yes."
Silence returned once more.
Outside, the distant sound of a locomotive partially pierced the air as snow continued to fall slowly over Asgard.
The city continued to grow.
Expanding.
Consuming everything around it.
And in the midst of all that, new problems slowly began to emerge.
Problems that were perhaps far worse than monsters, wars, or monarchs.
Scathach then looked directly at him again.
"And what are you going to do?"
Strax remained for a few seconds observing his coffee before finally answering:
"First?"
He took another slow sip.
"I’m going to finish my coffee." Strax remained for a few seconds observing the coffee before finally answering:
"First?"
He took another slow sip.
"I’ll finish my coffee."
Scathach let out a small, low laugh at that, partially resting her face on her hand as she observed him with a calmness very different from the overwhelming presence she used to carry in the past. The atmosphere remained silent for a few moments, filled only by the distant sound of locomotives crossing Asgard outside and the soft crackling of wood burning in the fireplaces of the hall.
Then Strax finally looked directly at her again.
More specifically at her outfit.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
Because now, after waking up properly and momentarily stopping thinking about Ouroboros, monsters, dead monarchs, political crises, and uncontrolled industrial growth, his mind finally managed to register an extremely important detail.
That outfit was absurd.
I mean, technically it still looked like a maid uniform.
But only technically.
The black dress was too short. Too tight. The neckline clearly existed for criminal intent. The dark stockings accentuated her legs even more, while the white apron seemed almost decorative, it was so small. Honestly, it looked more like some kind of indecent costume than a minimally functional cleaning uniform.
Strax stared silently for a few seconds before finally asking,
"...Why exactly are you wearing that outfit?"
Scathach blinked once.
Then she slowly looked down, analyzing her own uniform as if genuinely reflecting on the question.
Then she looked back at him.
"Isn’t that clear?"
Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.
She replied as calmly as possible,
"I want to sleep with you."
The silence that followed was so absolute that even the distant sounds of the factories seemed to disappear for a moment.
Strax just stared at her.
Without immediate reaction.
Because honestly, after months dealing with continental wars, cosmic entities, ancient dragons, exploding industrial cities, and creatures capable of destroying kingdoms, his brain still wasn’t prepared for someone to simply state that with the nonchalance of someone commenting on the weather.
Scathach continued holding her coffee cup calmly before adding,
"I just put this here for you."
She took a small sip of coffee.
Then she added in a perfectly casual tone,
"I literally told all the employees to take the day off today."
Strax remained silent for a few seconds.
Processing.
Very slowly.
Then he finally ran a hand over his face while letting out a low, incredulous laugh.
"You kicked the entire castle staff out?"
"I didn’t."
She tilted her head slightly.
"I gave them paid time off."
"That somehow makes it worse."
"Monica said employee benefits increase productivity."
That made him look at her again immediately.
"Did you discuss this with Monica?"
"Not the part about sleeping with you."
"Thanks for clarifying."
"You’re welcome."
She calmly rested her elbow on the table as she watched his tired expression slowly crumble into a mixture of mental exhaustion and utter disbelief.
The worst part was that Scathach seemed completely serious.
No shame.
No embarrassment.
She had actually arranged the whole thing as if it were just another logical task of the day.
Strax looked at her outfit again.
Then at her.
Then at the outfit again.
"...This really looks more like lingerie than a maid’s outfit."
Scathach observed her own body for a moment before calmly replying:
"Yes."
"You say that with too much pride."
"Because it looks good."
"That’s not the problem."
She arched a slight eyebrow.
"Then what is the problem?"
Strax opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Because honestly, at that moment he didn’t even know exactly which part of the situation was the main problem.
His mother was wearing an absurdly provocative maid costume.
She had seemingly emptied the entire castle.
She had prepared breakfast.
And casually announced that she wanted to sleep with him while serving coffee, as if they were discussing household management.
It was all so absurdly surreal that for a few seconds he simply gave up trying to mentally organize it.
